


Vintage Crooners & Those Sorts of Things

by wallflowers



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: First Date, M/M, Post canon, Rodimus actually being shown acting as a competent captain because he is thank you very much, Sort Of, set in the good ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflowers/pseuds/wallflowers
Summary: “What, you’re not coming?” Rodimus pointed an accusing finger at Megatron. “Don’t say someone has an appointment with you. Your schedule is free. I know because I checked.”Megatron gave him a look that settled somewhere between bemused and bewildered. “I’m not coming, because I haven’t been invited,” he said slowly.Oh. Oh. Oh yeah, he, uh, he forgot to do that, didn’t he.
Relationships: Megatron/Rodimus | Rodimus Prime
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	Vintage Crooners & Those Sorts of Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rookerrogue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rookerrogue/gifts).



> Happy birthday again Kay~!! ❤︎

“You’re not listening,” Megatron said.

“Dead wrong. I am too listening,” Rodimus shot back.

They were in their mid-week meeting, the ones they’d started having after the universe-skip. It was easier this way, to go over whatever decision-making or problems needed to be addressed together in private, so that the captainship could present a united front to the rest of the command and crew, and so they could work out any issues that might arise without a live audience. In the least it let them do their circling; if they couldn’t solve the problem _after that_ they’d bring it to the table for the rest of command (and Drift and Ratchet, who were just kind of informally _there_ , really) to give their thoughts on. It prevented them from wasting anyone’s time, that way. They were all so busy these days, in the best way possible. It made Rodimus giddy, not that he’d admit to being _giddy._ Excited, sure. _Giddy_ seemed silly when he said it aloud though. 

“You’re drawing,” Megatron pointed out.

“And _you_ were just going over how we need to get the A-3 fuel-quill replaced because Perceptor’s worried about its integrity, and Drift said there’s a port on some trading federation called Serbane… Sublime…”

“Sebene.”

“ _Sebene_ , thank-you, that might have the materials we need to get for our guys to fix it, or that we’ll be able to get pointed in the right direction from there in the least.” Rodimus looked up from what he’d been carving into the metal and grinned, shooting a finger gun at Megatron. “See? Nine out of ten, a passing grade. Drawing helps me _focus_ , I will have you know.”

“So?” Megatron prompted, gesturing to the datapad sitting on the desk between them.

Rodimus rotated the pad so he wasn’t looking at the text upside-down, skimming the details of Magnus’ report. “I think it sounds like a good idea. We got the fuel for it, yeah? Or do we need to make a pit-stop?”

“We have the fuel, and it’d save cost to minimize our stops,” Megatron provided. “It will take a number of weeks without interruption, however.”

“We’ll just have to stay the course. The crew can handle being cooped up for a while—we had longer legs back on the quest anyhow. If it gets bad, we just have the Scavengers start another ship-wide game of shoot-shoot-bang-bang – those usually last a few days – or we get Swerve to do another holomatter night or something. Speaking of which—” Rodimus stood and stretched, arms above his head, “—if that’s all we’ve gotta go over, I say it’s time to head over there. Big night and all.”

“Oh?” Megatron asked idly.

“Chromantic’s singing tonight!” Rodimus planted his hands on his hips, triumphant. “We finally talked her into it, after, like, a bajillion tries.”

“Well, have a good evening then,” Megatron said pleasantly, and returned to paging through his datapad, effectively taking the wind out Rodimus’ sails.

“What, you’re not coming?” Rodimus pointed an accusing finger at Megatron. “ _Don’t_ say someone has an appointment with you. Your schedule is free. I know because I _checked._ ”

Megatron gave him a look that settled somewhere between bemused and bewildered. “I’m not coming, because I haven’t been invited,” he said slowly.

 _Oh._ Oh. Oh yeah, he, uh, he forgot to do that, didn’t he.

Part of Rodimus wanted to run off and bemoan how much he screwed this up to Drift. That’d be easier. That’d be _safe_. 

_Megatron likes people being forthright_ , Drift had told him, when Rodimus had finally swallowed his pride enough to come to terms with the fact that yes, his feelings for Megatron ran a fair bit deeper than _friendly_ , and immediately went to Drift because that was a terrifying thought he had no idea what to do with. _You would too, if you had to deal with Starscream all the time. It’s a Conclave thing._

It’d given Rodimus a laugh at the time, but now it just impressed upon him that he needed to suck it up and stay to salvage this if he ever wanted a chance at this going _anywhere._

_Get it together Hot Rod._

“Yeah, I spaced that part I guess,” Rodimus said, rubbing at the back of his neck. Nervous tick. “So? Do you wanna? Come to Swerve’s, I mean. With me.”

That was bad. He was usually _good_ at this sort of thing. It's not as though he considered himself a _c_ _asanova_ , necessarily, but he'd never experienced being this uncertain, never second-guessed himself this much. A petty part of him rallied — damn Megatron, always throwing him off balance, standing there with his stupid hint of a smile, saying yes— 

_Wait, what?_

“Come again?” Rodimus blurted.

“I said I would like that,” Megatron repeated.

“You _would_? I mean yes! Yes, good. I’m glad. Um.” 

“Do you need a moment?” Megatron asked wryly. 

“Shut _up_ you old man,” Rodimus smacked his arm playfully, the ribbing giving him a familiar foothold in the conversation. “I’m _fine_.”

“Are you certain?” 

“Yeah. Say, where did you put your walker?” Rodimus began to look around his office. “If we leave now, we might get there to see the last few minutes of Chrom’s set before Swerve’s closes for the evening.” 

Megatron huffed and smoothly stood, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way Rodimus knew they did when he was laughing, just not audibly. “Alright, I’m convinced you’re fine.”

Rodimus smiled, and offered his arm. “We really should get going though. I reserved us seats.” 

“Someone’s a gentlemech,” Megatron commented, taking his arm. “Lead the way then, co-captain.” 

And damn, if that didn’t make Rodimus feel good. 

**Author's Note:**

> Chromantic is mentioned, so I should say this doesn't officially take place in SME's canon.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at weapon-up-wallflower


End file.
